Page 104 of Throttle

Following the address Caleb had sent, I cringe all the way. I didn't want to do this, but it was necessary because he's been great. I am surprised he's held off for so long. There's no doubt he's been persistent. Without Throttle, there was a possibility for something to happen between me and Caleb, but we’ll never know because the chemistry wasn’t there. He’ll make a woman thrilled one day. That woman just isn’t me.

I'm doubting if I have the correct address. The neighborhood doesn't give off a wealthy entrepreneur vibe. It reminds me of my old apartment building.

The place is alone on a secluded road, with spooky surroundings.

This is strange.

Brass's Harley roars beside me and without looking, I can sense his intense scowl of concern. “You are not going in there.”

Before focusing on Brass, I take another glance at the house. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I was expecting.” Not even close.

“Wasn’t expecting? Tequila. This place looks like it belongs in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“You’re being way too dramatic.” I force out a laugh.

“Dramatic is calling your boy and telling him I’m dragging your pretty ass back home. Which I am this fucking close to doing.” Brass holds his pointer and thumb together, showing me just how much he is trying not to do what he threatened.

I look back at the old house. The front of it looks sorry, with deteriorating steps and an overgrown lawn, even for this season.

“I must have the wrong address.” I decide, but before I can call Caleb to double check, the door opens and both me and Brass pause in place.

Not sure what I expected, but this is not it. I am hoping a man with a chainsaw does not come come barreling out though.

Caleb is there. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes as he waves. His body language is more tense than his usual charismatic self.

I push forward, disregarding every red flag and internal alarm.

Brass grabs my arm. “No. Way.” He turns to Caleb, who is now frowning.

“It’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll be right out here.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m coming in.”

“You’re not.” I gently remove his hand, giving him a reassuring pat on his muscular bicep.

His jaw clenches as he looks back and forth between me and Caleb before yielding. “Any sign of trouble, you scream. Get me?”

I swallow, then smile approaching the man I was here to see and cautiously climb the steps to his door to avoid injury.

“I’m sorry. My house is being renovated. I should have told you.”

“Oh. No. That’s okay.” A nervous squeak came out of me just now.

He shoots an irritated expression behind me. “I take it your cousin is going to wait there.”

I steal a glance at Brass, who looks furious with his arms crossed. “Um. Yeah. Overprotective remember?”

“I guess so.” He holds the door open, his hand to my lower back, and my stomach drops.

I can't quite describe the emotion, but it's unfamiliar. I release a tense breath and somehow relax my shoulders.

The inside is less tragic than expected, given the exterior. There are no indications of dinner being prepared, and I am suspicious. Everything is clean. Counter tops. The table. Not one meal item or utensil in sight.

The door closing startles me, and Caleb comes closer, reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry I may have lured you here with false pretenses.” He rubs his neck. “I can’t cook. I lied, but I have food being delivered. Tai. Hope you like it.”

Okay. Reasonable explanation, I suppose. But…

He skims my body. “You look breathtaking.”

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